In The Eyes of Eternity
by Pups Paws
Summary: Renamed. The Doctor's lost his memory, but is being traumatised by nightmares after waking up to find his body broken. Now he is facing life as a human. Ten/Martha
1. In Loving Memory of

**It's me again. Another mulit-chapter story.  
Currently I'm a little busy under the 'employment' of RubyRedMorena; and believe me; has she got me writing and interesting story!  
But not this one.  
This one I wrote a while back, set just after Journey's End.  
So I had no clue what would happen. I made this WHOLE thing up.  
So yeah...basically...oh!  
Same deal as before.  
I haven't seen Torchwood the Second Series, so Owen isn't dead.  
Ah...other than that...yeah...go ahead.  
**

* * *

**Forgotten as the Past**

He slowly opened his eyes, and unconsciously squinted at the unfamiliar surrounds.

The walls were a clinical white; the sort you'd find in a hospital, but one entire wall was made of clear glass, which allowed for viewing into an inconspicuous hallway.

A light hung over head, and despite it being rather dim, it caused his head to throb.

Every inch of his body ached horribly and he felt physically ill, like he was going to or had thrown up.

"S'good to see you awake finally"

Someone spoke from beside him and out of instinct, he turned his head; which proved to be a mistake.

What must have been a nasty gash on his neck burned with a fiery intensity as the skin around it pulled and stretched.

He drew in a sudden sharp breath and shut his eyes tightly, gritting his teeth.

A hand grabbed his own and squeezed tightly, letting him know he wasn't alone.

In response, he squeezed back and waited until the pain subsided.

When he opened his eyes again, he found the owner of both the voice and the hand.

It was a young woman, dark skinned and beautiful. Her eyes shone brightly with concern as she gauged his reaction carefully.

This young woman seemed familiar, but for the life of him, could not place her or remember her name.

"It's Martha. Owen said you'd have a little trouble remembering." She said gently.

Martha; as she was called was dressed in a fitted red leather jacket and blue jeans.

Her black hair was let down and framed her face nicely as she tilted her head to one side.

As he swallowed, he noted a chain around her neck with a small key hanging off it.

But his eyes wandered back to her face as she smiled warmly at him.

Gently she raised her small warm hand that wasn't clasped in his own and rested it on his forehead.

"Do you remember anything at all?" she asked, her voice a mixture of kindness and concern.

For a moment, he thought hard, but his mind was so cloudy and foggy; so thickly layered was the fog, he couldn't remember a thing other than what was happening now.

Slowly, he ever so slightly shook his head, feeling confused.

He should remember something.

"No" he murmured hoarsely.

A gleam of sadness filmed Martha's eyes as she frowned.

"Not even your name?" she asked softly.

This was bad, he could tell. He couldn't even remember his own name for god's sake.

Tears of fear and confusion began to well in his eyes.

"No" he said thickly, as the burning tears began to roll over his temples.

This Martha, leaned forward, gently shushing a whimper of terror from him as she wiped away the tears with the pad of her thumb.

"It's alright. I'm sure it'll come back to you. Your name is the Doctor" Martha soothed, nothing more than compassion in her eyes.

But his name even confused him.

The Doctor?

What a strange name…was it a title or a euphemism for something?

Regardless of how strange it was, it felt right.

Like it fitted him.

"The Doctor…" he repeated slowly and uncertainly.

It earned him a benevolent smile from Martha.

"Right you are" she confirmed.

For a moment, The Doctor studied Martha closely, hoping that if he looked at her long enough and hard enough he'd remember something about her.

She felt very familiar, like the closest of close friends. Somewhere deep inside himself, he felt his heart warm to her.

He could trust her; he was sure of that. Anything that came from Martha's mouth was trustworthy.

Reliable.

All this sudden stress however was quickly getting to him and he shut his eyes with a groan momentarily.

"What happened to me?" he asked, opening his eyes and knowing by instinct that he should at least remember something.

Casually, he glanced down at his body; and what he saw frightened him.

His chest was exposed, with rolls of white bandages wrapped around most of his torso and what small areas of flesh he could see, were bruised badly with colours of black and purple.

His right arm, was covered completely in bandages up to the elbow while his left wasn't dressed, but was cut and bruised badly.

The lower half of his body was covered in pale green baggy pants, but he could see a cast around his left leg and caught sight of his heavily bandaged right ankle.

"What happened to me?!" he practically screamed.

Martha's calming hand found his forehead again and yet again she shushed him, rubbing small soothing circles on the back of his hand with her thumb.

"Calm, calm, calm, calm, calm. Just relax Doctor. It's alright. How about you rest for a bit while I go and find Owen. He might be able to give you something to help you sleep" Martha said.

Just as she got up and broke all contact with him; a flash of memory seared through his mind.

He stood in a place of utter darkness, the stench of death and burning flesh stung his nose and caused his eyes to water. By his side, on his right, stood Martha and a tall man with ice blue eyes.

On his left stood two other women, a red headed of rather stocky build, and a shorter blonde, younger than the red headed woman.

Before him, stood three strange pepper-pot shaped robots, with bright blue lights on the ends of stalks shining eerily thought the darkness.

They were all pointed at him.

Fear racked his body, enhanced by the smell of the dead and dying, a deep sense of dread began to combine with it.

Just as he felt the dread climax, a massive black shadow rose up before him, and such a wave of terror consumed him.

As the shadow fell across him, he screamed.

"NO!" he cried hysterically, repeating the word over and over and over again, unable to move he was so rigid with fear.

The shadow was suffocating him, binding across his limbs and his mind, paralysing him and penetrating him.

He screamed again, incoherently, before remembering the one name in his mind other than his own.

"MARTHA!!"

It was the only name he could fish out of the darkness he was drowning in; and he knew she would come without fail.

He was right too.

Her hand was back on his forehead and she was shushing his cries, murmuring words that conveyed calmness and friendship and support into his ear.

As the shadow receded from his mind and reality began to solidify again, it left him trembling and sobbing as he clung desolately to Martha's arm that was slung across his chest.

At first, she didn't ask what he'd seen, because he was certain that she knew.

But when he'd calmed enough, she spoke.

"What did you see?" she whispered.

Shutting his eyes tightly, he swallowed nervously and shivered against her, unable to shake the feeling of the shadow strangling him.

"A shadow…a huge…black shadow and these…gold pepper-pot things. It was so dark…but there were people with me. You were there…you were right beside me…b-but the s-shadow…I couldn't breathe…it was choking me…I-I-I c-couldn't…" he murmured, unable to go any further as a broken sob cut him off.

Martha cooed at him, gently stroking his hair comfortingly.

"It's alright….it's okay. You're safe now Doctor. I've got you" Martha promised, but there was something disconcerting about the haunted look in her eyes.

Yet he drew from the comfort of her being there, of her soft palm running across his head and her arm across his chest.

His head was beginning to hurt, and his apparently broken left leg was starting to ache terribly and his chest was beginning to burn.

"Alright. Just lay there for a second Doctor. I'll go and find Own. Maybe he might shed some light on when you can come home" Martha said, releasing him almost as if she had heard his thoughts.

But it turned out that Owen, the doctor looking after him had no intentions of letting him go anytime soon.

Owen did not look like a conventional doctor; the Doctor supposed.

He wore plain clothes, and spoke sarcastically and with open contempt for some things.

His bed side manner was terrible.

Or were all doctors like that?

He couldn't remember.

Despite these things, Owen was a good doctor; he was gentle yet firm and efficient as he checked him over.

After taking his pulse, he stood up and took a needles from the tray by his bedside.

"Right then. Doctor, this is a mild sedative, mixed with a strong painkiller. Should knock ya out for a while" Owen said.

The Doctor didn't even feel the thin needle enter his arm over the growing pain in other areas of his body.

It wasn't long before the terrible ache in his head and legs dissipated and the burning in his chest faded.

Gratefully, he let his eyes slip closed as he succumbed to the sedative.

Sleep seemed like a good idea. Like a great idea.

The best idea ever actually.

From somewhere in the room, he heard Owen speaking to Martha.

"Retrograde amnesia. I'm not surprised he can't even remember his own name. What he's experiencing is normal, remembering fragments of the incident, common with this level of physical and mental trauma. It's a surprise that he's still alive" Owen said.

"He's not human, Owen. He's a Time Lord. Much more resilient than us…but he didn't regenerate. That worried me…so close to death that whole time and no regenerative signs. But tell me, will he ever remember it all?" Martha said softly, her voice dripping with distress.

"Hard to say. From studies, probably not. I know we deal with amnesia all the time, but this is a whole new level. All I can say is hope to god you're right about his resiliency, and take it one day at a time with him" Owen suggested.

Their voices got fainter and harder to hear, but the Doctor didn't care.

He felt slightly euphoric.

He was a Time Lord.

Interesting.

But what exactly was a Time Lord if not human?

* * *

**There we go. First chapter of a new story.  
The Doctor has forgotten everything.  
I didn't know what was going to happen?!  
So there!  
And of course Martha is there! I am a Ten/Martha fan after all.  
Plenty of Ten Whump and angst and frustration coming up for the Doctor, and Jack's gonna bounce in as usual.  
And a timely dropping in of Sarah-Jane Smith and K-9, cause I love that little dog.  
Review, review.  
And I'll write more.  
And for those of you out there, there is Ten/Martha in this, but...not right now. I'm focusing on the Doctor's confusion!  
Oh, and Rose. He remembers Rose...there's bits of Rose in this as well!  
If I say any more...there'll be major spoilers.  
So, I'll shut up now and if I get reviews, this will continue!!**


	2. Burning the Home Fires

**Chapter 2.  
Yeah...Chapter 2...spent all day typing this up!  
Hope it was worth it.  
Thanks for the reviews.  
As always forestwife, big CyberHugs to you!  
And RubyRedMorena I'm ALMOST done! I've hit a few snags, but we're almost there!  
Read on!  
Thanks for the reviews again!**

* * *

CHAPTER 2:- Burning the Home Fires.

_The stench was over powering, burning his nose and making his eyes water. _

"_Doctor! Doctor, don't do this!" Martha screamed from somewhere behind him. _

_She sounded so distraught and desperate it almost broke his heart. _

_But he didn't turn around. _

_He wouldn't. _

_It would make it so much harder. _

_Whatever 'it' was. _

"_Doctor, stop it! You can't possibly control it! You're not an Eternal!" a man's voice piped up. _

_An American, also fearful. _

_He had to do it. _

_He just had to. _

_There was no other way. _

_If he didn't do it, then…then…_

_He couldn't remember. _

"_Stop right now!" _

"_It'll kill you!" _

_Two other females called to him, but he refused to turn around. _

_It had started. _

_He could feel something burning up from inside him, something terrible shifted and stretched in his body. _

_Something so much more powerful than him…something he had no hope of controlling. _

_It would swallow him up in its rampage. _

_It was coming now, right now. Pushing through his flesh and bones and tearing apart his physical form. _

_With a scream, it consumed him. _

* * *

The Doctor jerked awake, sweating and trembling from his nightmare.

It had been so vivid…so real.

So horrifyingly close to reality that he had almost felt it happening again.

With a suck shudder, he prayed that it had only ever been a nightmare.

Quickly, he looked about; ignoring the sting of the wound on his neck.

To his disappointment, Martha Jones wasn't with him.

But for some strange reason…he didn't feel alone.

"H-Hello?" he called feebly, wincing at the dryness of his throat.

To his surprise, he got a reply.

"Greetings, master" a small mechanical voice replied.

At first, the Doctor had no clue who or what was talking, but then, out from under his bed trundled a machine.

It was rather boxy and as it turned he caught sight of the symbols on its side.

"K-9"

It's front swung around to face him, with a gleaming band of red lights; probably its eyes…if machines had eyes.

For a moment, the Doctor stared at the machine, wary.

What on Earth was it?

Why had it called him 'Master'?

"W-What are you?" he whispered, his eyes never leaving the thing.

"I am K-9, master" the machine spoke in a high electronic voice.

"K…9?" The Doctor repeated slowly, hardly daring to blink.

"Affirmative" the machine called K-9 bleeped.

Was he still dreaming?

How could a machine talk?

Well…respond to speech anyway?

Being as immobile as he was, he felt threatened. All he could so was stare at the thing and remain as still as possible.

He could have waited no more than five or so minutes before outside, in the hallway, he spotted Martha walking along next to a tall man and an older looking woman.

Soon as she saw him, she seemed to sense his fear.

Moving quickly, she entered the room and crossed to his bed.

"What's the matter? Are you okay?" he said quickly, her eyes wide as she leaned over him.

The feeling of concern at being alone with this strange talking machine began to subside; Martha was with him now. She'd protect him.

"What is that?" he asked softly, in case the machine heard.

By this time, the older woman and the man had entered and were standing at the foot of his bed.

Upon hearing his question, the older woman's eyes filled with horror and her hands flew to her mouth.

"You don't remember K-9?!" she gasped, then burst into tears.

The tall man looped an arm around her shoulder and said a few comforting words in a low voice.

The Doctor however was bewildered at this woman's sudden reaction. He'd upset her and he didn't know what to do.

As he floundered, he turned his eyes to Martha pleadingly.

He was so confused already .

With a sympathetic smile, Martha gestured to the machine thing.

"That is K-9, Doctor. He was your dog a long time ago…back when you travelled with Sarah-Jane Smith" Martha elaborated, her hand moving to point at the elder woman who was delicately wiping her eyes.

None of it jumped out at him as being significant in his mind, but there were faint feelings of memory clinging to this woman and the 'dog'.

"…I travelled?" he asked.

The sympathetic smile fell from Martha's face and for a moment she held his gaze with an element of desperation.

"Well. I've never seen Retrograde this bad. Even Re-Con pills don't get it to this level…this is like…frontal lobotomy!" the tall man said.

He was American, from the sound of his voice. And he, like Martha, felt safe.

The Doctor squinted at him, he seemed familiar.

Very familiar.

"…I…I think you were…with me…weren't you?" he asked hesitantly.

The man looked to Martha with a slightly bemused expression.

"Ah. He can remember part of it. Standing before _'them'_ as _'it'_ rose." Martha said.

At once, the man's ice blue eyes lit up and he grinned charmingly.

Whoever he was, he was a dashing character.

"So you remember my name?" he asked.

Try as he might though, the Doctor's mind never divulged his name, despite all his straining.

All he could do was stare blankly at the man, watching as his wide grin slowly fell.

"I take that as a no then." He sighed.

The Doctor did feel bad that he'd failed to remember this man's name.

He felt like a brother, so well known and close.

Just…nameless.

"It's Jack. Captain Jack Harkness. You've known me for a long time Doc. A little disappointed that you don't remember me" the man laughed.

Despite it being a joke, he felt the sting of the words none-the-less and his eyes sank to the bed sheets.

He'd only just woken up and had upset two people by not being able to recall anything about them.

"M'sorry" he breathed.

He was supposed to know these people, supposed to know them well. But he had no idea who they were or what their connection to him was, other than varying feelings of familiarity.

"Don't go and get upset now, Doc. No one's angry with you" Jack comforted.

But no one said anything more.

The Doctor felt terrible, and no amount of talking would change that

"…I think I might go home for a while…get some rest. I'm glad you're okay" Sarah-Jane said softly.

From her voice, she sounded genuinely shaken which made him feel worse.

She bade farewell to the other two before leaving, with K-9 trundling along behind her.

They were silent for a long time after her departure.

"Well…this sucks" Jack sighed as he sat down on the bedside chair.

Martha shot him a reproachful look as she eased herself down onto the very edge of the bed, folding her arms.

The look obviously meant that it wasn't to be taken lightly. No fun should be made of it.

The Doctor glanced at Jack who cleared his throat.

"So, Doctor. Do you remember anything?" Jack asked, careful to keep the question as un-accusatory as possible.

"Other than being in total darkness with Martha, you and two other women, in front of these gold pepper-pot things as this wall of like…living darkness came up at me…no" the Doctor said, shivering at the memory.

He felt Martha's hand on his left one, simply reminding him that it was over.

"…Nothing else?" Jack asked uncertainly.

The man was staring at him, some emotion close to fear in his eyes.

Why; the Doctor couldn't decide.

"No" he replied firmly, remembering his dream just before he's woken to find that machine in the room with him.

He decidedly put it down to simply being a night mare and nothing else.

So far, from what he could gather; he was a Time Lord called the Doctor, who wasn't human. He had two close friends in Martha and Jack, once knew a lady called Sarah-Jane Smith and once had a mechanical dog named K-9. And there was something to do with travelling.

He'd recently been through a horrific experience and was lucky to survive, but had been badly wounded during the event.

_Apparently._

With a deep breath, Jack looked at Martha, who looked at Jack.

"Did Owen say he'd ever get his memory back?" he asked quietly.

"He wasn't sure. But he said most likely not...anyway. We'll discuss this later, Jack. Time we moved on to lighter topics" Martha had started down a grave path, but changed subjects.

Whatever had happened; it must have been beyond any known word for bad if Martha was keeping it from him.

Best if it stayed forgotten.

The Doctor for a moment, thought.

Martha had mentioned home before…he sure would like to go home.

That of all places should be familiar.

"When can I go home?" he asked.

Jack's handsome face twisted worriedly and again he glanced at Martha.

"Do you remember what home is?" he asked, his voice low.

The need to go home was strong, he wanted to go somewhere where he could remember.

But even home, the most basic of things was gone from his accessible memory.

He knew he had a home…just not anything about it.

"…No" he said softly, shame creeping through him.

"Well. Until you do, you'll come home with me. Besides, you'll need some form of supervision. Even if they let you out in the next week, you'll not be one hundred percent." Martha said confidently, her thumb rubbing over the back on his hand reassuringly.

Martha was strong; the Doctor got the feeling that she always had been.

Very strong…very smart.

"I like you Martha Jones" he murmured.

Her thumb abruptly stopped its ministrations.

"You said Jones" he said softly.

It caused the Doctor to look up curiously. In much the same manner as Jack.

"Yeah…so?" Jack commented.

A charming smile of absolute joy spread across her lips.

"I never told him my surname! He remembered it all by himself!" she laughed, over joyed .

The same grin transferred to Jack, who laughed.

The Doctor also smiled.

He'd remembered something that he should have known, no matter how small. Regardless, he had remembered.

That had to be a good sign.

Maybe his memory would come back and he'd be able to recall these people and what their connection to him was.

He couldn't help but feel that moment of small remembrance had brightened his future slightly.

* * *

So far, for Martha, the day had been full of ups and downs.

Scratch that; the past month and a half had been an emotional rollercoaster.

And she was just plain tired.

Exhausted in every way possible.

With the Doctor safely sleeping again for the second time that day; she felt a little better than before.

He had managed to remember her surname, and that had been a good sign.

But for an entire month and two weeks she'd suffered, having next to no hope of the Doctor ever waking up again; so Martha was finding it hard to embrace the hope now.

Of course, she was happy for him; she was ecstatic that he was awake and going to pull through. Yet she was realistic though, she felt a pit in her stomach the size of London, knowing that he probably would never remember his times with her.

He'd never remember two thirds of his life.

Two thirds that he only knew, if not more.

She didn't know how to help him.

A warm hand gently slid onto her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" Jack asked, his voice beset with concern.

Martha glanced through the glass of the Torchwood medical wing, to gaze at the Doctor, sleeping on the bed.

His entire body had been broken during the battle, almost damaged to a point of no return.

Despite recovering a great deal over the past month and a bit, there still would be scars that would never heal on that body.

Bones weakened, organs damaged.

The amount of power that had ripped through his body should not have been allowed to exist, let alone pass through any living organism.

Now there he was. On that bed.

A mess of bandages and cuts and casts and bruises.

Strangely enough, the only damage to his face was a deep gash across his temple which was healing well. It had been the blow that had wiped his memory clean.

And it was the only thing that was healing extremely well.

Ironic.

It was all too much for Martha Jones.

Tears that she had been holding in for weeks flowed from her eyes.

"…I'm scared Jack…I want him to remember so bad…I can't bear to see that…l-lost look in his eyes again, so confused…and frightened…it's not right. Not fair" Martha sobbed.

The ex-Time Agent wrapped his arms protectively around her, pulling her against his chest.

Jack had become her best friend over the past year; they were like brother and sister.

So close.

He knew instinctively when to speak and when to shut up.

This was a time to shut up.

He let Martha cling to him, sob her heart out as she shook her head and murmured half coherent words that had been pent up inside her.

Neither bothered to communicate properly, as they knew that after the ordeal; their friendship was one of the only things that had been true and certain. Like a life raft for them both.

At times, they had sought each other out just for a tight embrace.

Everyone had lost so much, it wasn't uncommon for someone to suddenly break down.

Slowly, Martha's hiccupping sobs faded into silence and her eyes dried.

"Better now?" Jack asked.

She nodded against him, squeezing him a little tighter.

"Thankyou" she breathed.

Dropping a kiss on her head, Jack let her go. Both stepped away from each other.

Clearing her throat and wiping her eyes, she nodded.

"Okay. I'm alright now. Let's go." She said softly.

Jack nodded and walked with her, from the medical wing to the main work area of the Hub.

As they entered Owen, Tosh, Gwen and Ianto all looked up.

For a moment, no one spoke.

"…What do we do?" she asked suddenly, giving away the fact that they had been watching on the monitors what had happened down there.

Another short period of silence followed.

"…I…" Jack began.

"We do not tell him what happened" Martha cut it, authority ringing in her voice.

Jack's head snapped toward her, complete puzzlement upon his face.

"Why not?" Owen piped up cockily, leaning back in his chair.

A gaze reminiscent of the Doctor's in a fury rounded on him.

"The entire thing was traumatic for us…we all still have nightmares about it. Donna was _killed._ And this was just for us! Imagine what he went through! That power burning him up…the Time-Fire…could you possibly imagine his pain?!" Martha snapped furiously.

Her tone was razor sharp, and her eyes gleamed darkly.

Even Owen ducked his head.

"…She's right." Jack agreed finally.

All eyes turned to Jack, who looked grim. His eyes were glistening with a cold light almost daring someone to challenge him.

Yet both he and Martha looked tired as well as menacing.

"I don't want him to remember. If he ends up doing so, it shall not be a result of a word said to him from us. We help in whatever way we can, despite this" Jack said tonelessly.

There was a murmur of reluctant agreement from the Torchwood team.

But Martha didn't have time to waste on getting them to see where they were coming from, she had other things to do that required her utmost attention.

"Now that that's settled. I'm going to check the TARDIS, make sure she's still alright." She said coolly.

No one called for her attention she marched off, leaving Jack to his duties.

* * *

**There we go.  
Like I said with the Torchwood series 2 thing, Haven't seen it so both Tosh and Owen are still alive.  
Ah...chapter 3 will be coming up soon.  
I'm starting to wonder whether or not this is going to be bigger than The Waking of the Eternal Nightmare. On paper its looking that way!!  
Thanks again!**


	3. Black and Blue

**Is this a bit late?  
Sorry, if it is, cause I think it is by my standards. I've had a little trouble getting the computer for long enough to actually type this out.  
But believe me, I won't make a habit of it.  
Promise! Doctor's honour!  
Anyway, just to clarify something.  
Martha is working for Torchwood, and she has moved to Cardiff. So, hopefully that should clear everything up if there is any mud in the water.  
Uh...basically thats it so far...I think...you know...anything you want to ask I'm usually around, if not...I'll be around soon.  
Thanks again for reviewing, and yeah...**

* * *

CHAPTER 3:- Black and Blue

No nightmare came to him this time.

Just darkness as he awoke to the sound of the door closing.

The Doctor was glad that no bitterly terrifying dreams had disturbed him; that he had woken peacefully.

As he cracked open his eyes, he heard a familiar American accented voice.

"Rise and shine, Doctor. I know you're awake. And it's about time for you to get to work." Jack Harkness said lightly.

Even though he had lost his memory, the Doctor still felt an element of childish resentment to work. The word carried a certain weight that he didn't want.

He wondered if he always used to get this feeling.

He opened his eyes and stared at Jack, who gave him a dazzling grin.

"Now that I have your attention. Martha and I have decided to try and speed up your memory. See if we can help it along a bit." Jack said.

His tone was cheerful, almost playful, but the doctor could seen a deep feeling of desperation in him.

Jack wanted him to remember. He missed the old Doctor.

The Doctor said nothing of it though. All he knew was that he had to stop wallowing in his sadness and self pity and focus on getting better.

"Alright" he agreed.

Jack shifted and cleared his throat as he sat himself down on a chair.

"Okay. First off, I want you to ask me questions. Maybe something that you've half remembered and want some help with?" Jack explained.

Soon as he had spoken the words _'ask me questions_', one and only one question sprang to mind.

A burning question that he needed an answer to.

"Am I human?" He asked, and instantly he felt like an idiot.

It had been a stupid question.

Of course, Jack would give him a bewildered look before answering with some sharp quip at the end.

There was no such thing as…

"No"

…Aliens.

The Doctor blinked, turning his head ever so slightly to get a good look at Jack.

Had he heard him right?

Did he just say no?

"…Sorry?" he murmured disbelievingly.

There was nothing that would suggest a lie in Jack's ice blue eyes as he answered again.

"No. You are not human"

A sort of cold shock descended over the Doctor. He'd probably been totally aware of his alien heritage before the accident, but being told he wasn't human was still a shock to the system.

"…Then what am I?" he muttered hoarsely.

If Jack said Martian, he knew he'd been lying.

"You're a Time Lord." Jack said.

There was a pause; obviously for the Doctor, giving him a chance to remember.

But he was still getting over the fact he was an alien.

His mind did not recognize the phrase _'Time Lord'_.

So Jack continued.

"You're a Time Lord…non-human, binary vascular system; which is two hearts, a respiratory bypass system, which means you can go for a while without oxygen. Significantly more intelligent that a human…much longer life span…and you can regenerate; cheat death twelve times before you honestly die. At the moment, you are somewhere in your early nine hundreds, you never were really good at keeping track of your age and you are currently in your tenth incarnation." Jack said, helping to dumb down some of the more complicated things.

But despite this, nothing seemed even remotely familiar.

It was impossible; everything jack had just said. Two hearts? Go without oxygen? _Regenerate?!_

The Doctor felt wrong.

Jack had to be playing with him, some sort of joke. There was no such thing as aliens.

With an almost pleading look, he stared at the American.

"I can't be…I must be human. Like you and Martha. I'm not a…a-a Time Lord, or whatever. I am a human" he said softly, almost hysterically.

In his chest his heart was beating crazily, pumping out a loud, quick rhythm. For a moment, he thought he felt a second beat, in the right side of his chest.

Seeing his panic, Jack leaned forward in his chair.

"It's alright, Doctor. Calm down. Panicking won't help you. So just relax" Jack soothed.

Some part of his mind took this information on board.

There was no sense in panicking about what he was.

Taking a few deep breathes, he fisted his left hand into the sheets and shut his eyes momentarily.

"Alright…alright" he whispered, slowly opening his eyes again, yet his fist remained entangled in the sheets.

For a moment, Jack remained silent, obviously waiting for him to give him another question.

"…So…if I am not human. And I am a Time Lord. What planet did I come from?" he murmured.

It seemed like a flicker of sadness passed over Jack's face for barely a second before it disappeared.

"Gallifrey" he said.

As soon as this word had been spoken, the Doctor winced.

A deep sense of sadness filled him, but he didn't know why.

"Remember anything? Ringing any bells?" the American asked, almost hopefully.

All the Doctor did was shake his head, not feeling any sort of revelations at all.

With a deep groan and a heavy sigh, Jack pinched the bridge of his nose.

"This is going to be more difficult than I thought" he said.

The Doctor agreed.

* * *

Three days passed; three days of the same monotonous routine repeated for the Doctor.

He'd wake up to Owen entering the room, and lay still as he could, answering questions as the doctor in charge of him performed his examination.

Usually he'd be allowed to rest for an hour, then Jack would come in, talk for a while, but then the memory exercises were exacted. Most of the time, it was excruciatingly frustrating as he could not remember anything Jack spoke of.

He remembered nothing.

Then, he'd get a visit from Martha, who would come in as Jack left and be there to console him about his inability to recall anything.

They'd speak, laugh and cry together.

The Doctor defiantly considered Martha's visits the best part of his day.

As she left, she'd drop a kiss on his head, give him a few encouraging words and then leave.

Usually he'd sleep after that event, until Owen's nightly examination and then a sedative to get him to sleep uninterrupted throughout the night.

Then, it would start all over again.

* * *

On his fifth morning, he awoke to the familiar click of the door closing.

As usual, he still felt a little foggy from the from the sedative, pretty cloudy.

A small grunt alerted Owen to his conscious state without opening his eyes.

"Stay still" Owen said as he drew back the blankets from the bed.

He vaguely felt Owen prodding his torso, yet he was too busy trying to struggle up from his drug induced stupor.

"Does this hurt?" Owen demanded, poking a tender area rather firmly.

A sharp bolt of pain caused his to tense.

"Yes" he hissed as it faded.

Owen hummed slightly before moving on.

The process was the exact same as the three days previous.

Poking, prodding, humming, demanding answers with half mumbled replies.

"Right" Owen murmured, half to himself.

That was the only warning he got before he heard retreating footsteps and the door clicking open and shut again.

The Doctor was still too tired to care.

Owen usually told him the schedule for that day and that he'd be back at the end of it.

This time however he had simply left.

If he'd been a little more focused, he would have recognized it.

Yet he wasn't an as usual he slipped away from awareness to sleep the rest of the sedative off.

* * *

It didn't last long though.

He was woken by a soft voice calling him, gently coaxing his to _"Wake up for her"._

The voice of Martha Jones spoke softly and calmly as she stroked his forehead lovingly.

Slowly, he mustered the strength to force his eyes open.

"Good…there we are…" Martha cooed as his vision came into focus.

Martha, Jack and Owen stood around his bed in an obvious break from routine.

Blearily he blinked, confused as to the reason for their presence.

"W-What's goin' on?" he murmured sleepily.

His question earned him a joyful smile from Martha, who tousled his hair in her ministrations.

"We've got some good news for you" she said softly.

Good news?

Not that he was being pessimistic, but he wondered what the good news could possibly be?

The routine hadn't changed to his knowledge, so today was like every other day.

Thankfully, the remnants of sleep fell from him and his awareness rose accordingly.

"What sort of good news?" he replied of both curiosity and wariness.

The smile on Martha's face had spread to Jack's.

"Owen has deemed you well enough to leave here" he said.

"You're coming home with me." Martha added.

The idea of being able to see Martha a lot more often pleased the Doctor greatly and he too grinned.

"That's brilliant." He said, feeling as though he had won some sort of battle.

"Of course it is! But everything will still be the same. I am a doctor like Owen. So I'll be looking after you instead of him, but Jack will be with us and your memory exercises will not change." Martha clarified seriously.

This news did come as a slight low, but the grin on the Doctor's face did not change or waver, he simply nodded.

"One more thing" Owen said suddenly, piping up for the first time.

From the tone of his voice, it wasn't too pleasant.

The Doctor looked up at him, taking in the grim line of his mouth and he knew that it wasn't good.

"Regardless of you going home, you are still badly wounded. Your broken leg has healed significantly, but you cannot walk. Martha will basically nurse you from now on. Feed you, water you, bathe you, dress you, redress your wounds; she'll have to do everything for you. Martha is ready for that burden. Do you want to go home, or stay here" Owen said bluntly.

It gave the Doctor the impression of a to the point, no dance around the may-pole man.

Guilt at the mere thought of leaning so heavily on Martha already was burning up in him.

With a furtive glance at her, he sighed.

"…I don't want to do that to her…" he began.

"But I want to take care of you Doctor. I know you don't remember, but you've done so much for me. If I do this, I can repay you" Martha interrupted.

Jack's eyebrows rose as he folded his arms, but the Doctor ignored it. He stared intently at Martha, hoping to find some trace of lies in her eyes.

Yet all he found was truth and honesty.

Slowly, he nodded.

"Alright. I'll go with Martha." He murmured.

There was no reprimand from Owen, not even a comment.

He simply walked over to the corner of the room and retrieved the wheel chair that had been sitting there.

Jack stepped up.

"Right. I'm gonna lift you up and put you in the chair, Doc. Hang on to me; if it gets too much" Jack warned.

Swallowing nervously, the Doctor nodded again.

As he shifted, Jack slid his arms around his shoulders and under his knees.

Taking a deep breath, the Doctor was lifted from the bed that he'd been in for well over a month.

No amount of preparation though, could have prepared him for the pain that hit him.

He gasped, squinting his eyes shut and biting his lip. Unconsciously he grabbed onto Jack's navy greatcoat with his left hand.

His breath was soon coming in rapid gasps and he felt his heartbeat(s) thudding in his chest.

"J…J-Jack" he stammered, barely over a whisper.

The pain was so bad; he was burning up, every part of his body, aching and stinging.

He couldn't do it, he couldn't. If it went on any longer, he was going to die; he was so sure of it.

Awareness was beginning to flee him just as he heard Jack's reply.

"Easy…easy"

Somewhere beyond his current state of mind, he felt Jack's arms leave him and the pressure of gravity on his limbs eased, the pain quickly fading, leaving him gasping, trembling and barely clinging to consciousness.

For a moment he considered sinking into the comforting darkness, but faintly he heard Martha's voice.

"…Hang on Doctor. Come back…open your eyes for me" she coaxed, running her fingers through his hair.

He felt Jack's iron grip on his shoulder, but the American said nothing.

Holding onto the physical sensation of both Martha's hands and Jack's, he managed to push his eyes open.

He caught sight of Jack standing by him, eyes wide with concern, and Martha was crouched before him.

"Doctor?" she murmured.

It took him a moment to muster the strength to answer, his throat working silently before he managed a small whimper.

"I'm so sorry, Doctor. I tried to go as quick as I could…but…I didn't want to hurt you" Jack apologized fervently, squeezing his shoulder slightly.

The Doctor could barely focus; he felt so tired.

So weak.

Completely drained of all strength.

Slowly, his breathing eased and his heartbeat(s) levelled out, but he felt no better.

"Owen…give him something. I don't wanna see him like this" Martha said.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Owen pick up a small needle and flick it experimentally.

"No" he muttered hoarsely, throwing his right hand out.

Owen paused.

"No" he said with more strength.

Everyone waited for an explanation from him.

"M'okay…m'okay. It's aright, let me go. I wanna be awake." He said looking at Martha and Jack.

They glanced at each other, before Martha nodded to Owen who put the needle down.

"Okay Doctor. Let's go" Jack said, walking around to push the chair as he let his shoulder go.

Taking a deep breath, the Doctor looked up at Owen.

"Thank you so much for looking after me" he said sincerely.

Owen nodded.

"It's alright. Just don't push yourself too hard in recovery or anything. Take your time" he sniffed with a shrug.

With a grin, the Doctor nodded and at that point, Jack began pushing.

Martha opened the glass door to allow them exit before falling into step beside him.

Together they passed through a maze of passageways, some sloping down, some inclined, some brightly lit, others dimmer than night.

It confused the Doctor, but both Jack and Martha were completely calm about it, holding an air of knowledge about them.

For the first time, he seriously wondered where he was.

He felt a sensation of being deep underground, judging from the lack of windows and natural light.

"Where are we going?" he asked, tilting his head back to look at both of them at the same time.

The healing gash on his neck seared , but he did not show any physical signs of pain.

"To a waiting car. My truck actually, we'll put you in there and drive the ten minutes to Martha's pad." Jack said smoothly.

"Yes, and once we get there, first thing on the agenda for you, Mister, is a bath and some clothes. I am not having you in my house stinking and in nothing but your pants." Martha said jokingly, but at the same time utterly serious.

Turning his eyes back to the front, the Doctor struggled not to think of Martha's small hands gently soothing away his aches and pains.

It caused him to wonder if there had ever been a relationship between her and himself before. Something more than friends?

From her treatment of him, she was fond of him, but there always seemed to be a faint spark of regret in her eyes when she looked directly into his eyes.

Had he been the cause of that?

Or was it something deeper?

"Ah. Here we go. Truck" Jack sighed, pushing the wheelchair up over a small bump, which brought the Doctor back to reality.

Before him sat a large black truck, like a Ute but with a large box attached to the back.

The whole thing was sleek and generally good looking.

Though he had a feeling he'd never seen it before.

Slowly, as they approached, Jack leaned down.

"I'm gonna have to lift you out of that chair." Jack informed.

The prospect of going through that agony again made the Doctor shiver.

"Okay" he murmured softly.

He caught a glimpse of Martha's beautiful young face, smiling gently at him.

That bath to soothe his aches and pain was beginning to sound good.

The wheelchair came to a halt by the back seat door.

Martha swiftly opened it as Jack leaned down to gather the Time Lord.

As Jack's strong arms found suitable places, the Doctor gulped down a few deep breaths of air; steeling himself against the coming onslaught.

By his ear, the American swiftly counted to three before lifting.

This time it was quick; he held his breath, his eyes hut tightly as he fought against the pain that rose up from his wounds.

Jack sat him in the car seat speedily, settling him back against the padding and allowing him to relax.

"Okay?" Jack queried.

"Yeah" the Doctor breathed, nodding slightly.

Upon opening his eyes again, he found Jack eyeing him suspiciously.

"Are you sure you're well enough to leave?" he said.

Now that he thought of it, he probably could stand a few more days in…where ever he'd been.

Not that it mattered now.

All he did was force a grin.

"Yeah…I'm a hundred percent sure. All I want to do, is have that bath and then catch a nap." He said, forcing his voice to sound stronger than he felt.

It fooled Jack, who simply pulled the seatbelt across his chest and clicked it into place before ducking out for a second. He returned with a soft, woollen blanket which he lay over him, explaining that this was to keep him warm and then he left, closing the door behind him.

By the time Martha got in, the engine was on.

"Ready?" Jack asked them both as he sat at the wheel.

"Yep" the Doctor replied as chirpily as he could muster.

"Course" Martha responded and with that, the truck rumbled forward.

Peering out the front windshield, the Doctor watched as they ascended a steep ramp which levelled out at the top, where they were forced to wait for a large roller door to open.

It slowly inched upward, revealing the world outside.

Even through the tinted windows, it was bright.

The expanse of endless grey sky above them, the people wandering to and fro in a most random fashion; all of it had the Doctor looking about like a curious child.

He caught a glimpse of a towering wall, made of black marble with water coursing serenely down its surface as the truck began to make its way around the area toward the road.

But what really captured his eye was something sitting in front of the feature.

A tall, blue box.

Easily two metres, bordering on three; just sitting there.

Completely out of place.

But no one looked at it. Not even Martha or Jack who had started a quiet conversation.

That blue box felt so familiar; a strong urge to go up to it pulled at his heart(s) and something seemed to be playing upon the edge of his mind, just out of reach.

He kept his eyes on the box for as long as he could, which was until they turned a corner and it disappeared from sight behind a building.

"What was that?" he said, interrupting their conversation abruptly.

"What was what?" Jack asked.

"Roald Dahl Plass?" Martha said.

"No, no, no. That wooden box thing. Blue. Sitting right in front of the water wall thing. Did you see it?" the Doctor demanded, not meaning to be rude, but he was tired and in no mood to explain things.

For a moment, neither spoke, but they glanced at each other.

"No idea what you're talking about" Jack eventually said.

The Doctor opened his mouth to protest, but Martha turned in her seat.

"Just sit back and relax. It doesn't matter" she said.

Always, her words sounded right and sensible and this time was no exception.

But as he pulled the blanket up to his chin and as he burrowed into it for more warmth, he swore he caught a glimpse of both Jack and Martha smirking at each other.

* * *

**Hehe, TARDIS time...I love that blue box with a passion...almost as much as I love DT and JB...but not quite.  
Any how...I'm going to get the next one up soon. Maybe not for the next three days or so, but it'll be sooner than this one. As for changing the name...well...I got bored of the other one, I like this one better. I seem to have a fixation on the word Eternity and it's variations...I'll admit to it!!  
By the way!  
I am now watching the new Series of Doctor Who, Season 4...its not my fault that Australia is behind everyone else!  
But we just saw Fires of Pompeii, and I was SO happy...can't wait for the Sontarn Stratagem. Hooray for the LOVELY MARTHA'S TIMELY RETURN!!  
See you soon!!  
I hope**


	4. Squeaky Clean

**Wow...lately I've been getting quite a lot of pokes from people asking for this story to continue.  
Sorry about it being late, cause I did get bogged down in proper work...and this story wasn't going anywhere...  
But I'll keep typing it out for thise loyal people.  
Thanks for the support!**

* * *

**__****_CHAPTER 4: SQUEAKY CLEAN_**

The Doctor felt as if he'd only just closed his eyes, when the truck stopped.

"Okidokie. We're here," Jack said, clapping his hands together.

"I'll get the wheelchair out of the back," Martha volunteered as she jumped from the truck.

Jack climbed from the cab and opened the Doctor's door.

"Lookin' a little frayed around the edges, Doc," Jack commented sympathetically.

The Doctor managed a weary smile.

"Too much movement…I can't wait for a nice hot bath." The Doctor sighed, letting his head loll about on the back of the seat.

A small smile twitched Jack's lips upward and he nodded.

"Understood, General. Won't do it again," Jack said with military precision.

Sensing this as very familiar territory, the Doctor smirked.

"Better not Captain. Or you'll end up back in boot camp," he joked.

A spark of warmth and thanks lit up Jack's blue eyes and he felt proud of himself for being the cause of it.

Then Martha appeared, with the wheelchair before her.

The Doctor knew what was to happen next.

* * *

Outside the truck pulled away.

Jack had been forced to return to where they'd been to pick up some things apparently.

It left the Doctor alone with Martha.

"So, bath or bed?" Martha asked, tilting her head to one side, curiously.

"Bath," the Doctor said without hesitation; which caused Martha's eyebrows to rise.

A small laugh shook her body, before she nodded.

"Alright then. I'm going to put you into a pair of board-shorts, and I'm going to remove all those bandages. The stitches should hold," Martha said.

The Doctor nodded, trying not to seem too excited about getting clean and then going for a nice, long rest.

Martha nodded in return.

"I'll go and find you a pair of board-shorts then. You wait here," she said as she back from the room.

When she'd gone, he took the opportunity to glance around at various objects of interesting nature.

Most were little knick-knacks; cute little things of absolutely no meaning what-so-ever, but the photographs were appealing.

A few of her as a child with a group of people he supposed to be her family.

Slowly, using his left hand; he pushed the chair forward to peer at the photo on the mantle.

It was in a silver frame of twisted metal and coloured glass.

He peered closer at the still image, almost falling out of his chair to see it properly.

It was of a man, and her.

A tall, thin man, wearing a dashing blue suit with wild hair and intense brown eyes.

He had his arms wrapped around Martha, who was laughing joyfully. He seemed quite happy too; clinging to her as he grinned boyishly, threatening to overbalance her.

A wave of irrational jealousy surged up inside him, directed at the man.

"Ah, happier times." Martha said from beside him.

The Doctor didn't jump, he merely glanced up at her.

"Who is he?" he asked.

Martha's eye widened in surprise and she took a fleeting look at the photo.

Reaching out a finger, she tapped the glass covering the man.

"That's you," she said simply.

For a moment, the Doctor stared at the image, before tilting his head back.

"Really?" he asked.

The sound of her light laughter rang through the air.

"Yes Doctor. Don't suppose that you've had time to look in the mirror but that's definitely you. That was us…a long time ago." Her jovial tone fell into a somewhat regretful note.

Immediately, the Doctor felt stupid for getting jealous of himself; even if he had no memory of it.

Which, by the way, irritated him.

He wanted to know what he had done to make her feel so sad about the past.

"Anyway Doctor, bath…I'll help you out of your things." She said, starting from her moment of nostalgia.

In her hand, she held a pair of scissors and bent to begin cutting away the bandages from his arm.

He watched in mild fascination at her unveiling of his right arm and hand.

The skin wasn't what could be considered normal, and at once he knew that it had been terribly burnt at one time; though the amount of healing would have been considered remarkable, not to mention the lack of evidence to suggest any scarring.

"It must have been bad," he said, glancing at Martha as she continued cutting the bandages, she shrugged noncommittally.

"Yeah…it was bad. When…when I looked up, everything was gone…the Da…pepper pots…the shadow. But you were still there; nothing more than a crumpled heap on the ground. I could see the blood…your arm…your legs. I thought I was going to loose you…I thought I _had_ lost you. You were so still…and pale…and cold…" she trailed off, her fingers slowing to a halt.

The Doctor could see that she had begun to tremble, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, covering the deeply haunted look as she remembered what had happened to him.

Using his not-so-damaged left hand, he grasped hers, squeezing firmly.

"It's over now. I'm alright and I will get my memory back," he said.

Her eyes flickered to his and for a moment he saw a hint of utter desolation in her eyes before she squeezed back.

"Owen says that you have retrograde amnesia. Patients generally don't remember much, if anything at all, about their previous lives." Martha said sadly.

Unable to stand her sadness, the Doctor defiantly puffed out his chest and lifted his chin.

"But I'm not a general patient, I am a Time Lord…better than humans…whoops…uh…most humans." His correction lessened the impact of the words somewhat, but Martha gave him a tiny smile nonetheless.

"Did you remember that?" she asked.

"Ah…no. Jack told me, 'cause I asked…gave me a right freak out too." The Doctor said.

Her laugh was like music as she started cutting again.

They lapsed into silence, Martha delicately cutting away the bandages from his wounds as he sat there, staring at the photos once again.

Thankfully there would be no major dramas with his leg as the cast had been taken off while he'd slept back with Owen and had now nothing more than a roll of tight, white bandages.

Finally, she stood up and put the scissors down, retrieving the black board-shorts that she had found.

The Doctor looked at them, then at her. He suddenly felt very, very, very embarrassed.

* * *

The water was ready, lapping gently against the pure white sides of the large bathtub.

Martha stood, one arm around the Doctor; who was perched precariously on the thin edge of the tub.

"Test the water" Martha instructed, gently skimming her fingers over the water's surface in demonstration.

The Doctor followed suit, allowing his fingertips to slip into the water. The warmth of the liquid was perfect; just at the right temperature to relax in.

"S'good." He reported.

"Right then. Hang onto me, I'm going to swing your legs over so they're in the water," she said, bending low.

Wrapping his arms around her, she lifted both his long legs over the edge and gently placed them in the water.

That constant ache coming from his broken leg and broken ankle eased slightly.

He hummed pleasurably.

"Good?" Martha asked, laughing slightly.

"Very good," he replied softly.

"Okay, time to get in properly. I'll lower you in." she said, grabbing him around the chest, careful to avoid the deep gashes that started up at his neck, and ended just at the end of his sternum; along with the myriad of small cuts, or deep cuts or any other kinds that seemed to criss-cross his chest.

With a slow steadiness, Martha eased him down into the water, until he was able to sit on the bottom.

She rested his back against the wall of the bath and placed his arms on either edge to make sure that he didn't slip.

Though, the Doctor was not aware of anything Martha was doing; he was enjoying the feeling of warmth all around him, the cleanliness of the water, the quiet splashing from his slight movement.

With a moan of utter please, he rested his head on the edge of the bath tub, allowing his eyes to slip closed.

"Is everything alright?" Martha asked, reaching for a washcloth.

As she dipped it into the water, he nodded slightly.

"Perfect," he sighed.

Martha laughed as she gently placed the washcloth on his shoulder and began to rub softly at the skin.

For a while, they remained silent as Martha gently washed his body and as the Doctor relished in the warmth and purity.

The water and the temperature was starting to lull him toward sleep. It felt like he was drifting away from consciousness, and he didn't care.

"Martha?" He mumbled from his drowsy state.

He had a question and he wanted to ask it, it had been gnawing at him for sometime.

When she hummed, he continued.

"Remember you told me I travelled?" he asked.

"Yes?" Martha responded gently washing around the gashes.

Opening his eyes slightly and turned his head to look at her.

"Did I ever travel with you?" he asked.

A small smile graced his lips as she nodded.

"Yes. I travelled with you Doctor." She answered.

If he had been more awake, he probably would have stopped there.

Yet, he continued to talk.

"Was it for a long time?" He asked, curiosity lacing his voice.

"Around a year, I think, we never kept track of time. We were always moving, bouncing from here to there and back again and then somewhere in between." Martha spoke fondly and the Doctor blinked at her, before sighing.

"I wish I could remember. I want to know what I did with you, I wanna know if you are actually right in saying you owe me." He said, settling his head back against the edge.

Martha hummed.

"…How did we meet?" He asked, in the mood for a story.

It took her a moment to begin but when she did, "Well…it had been an ordinary enough start to the day…I was walking to work at the Royal Hope Hospital when you jumped out in front of me and took your tie off. Of course, this confused me; cause I had never met you before. But I got to the hospital and I found you lain up in bed. I was an intern at the time, so I was with a consultant and other interns. When I mentioned you in the street, you had no clue what I was on about" Martha continued said.

Yet after a while, from a combination of her voice, his exhaustion and the warmth of the water soon had him lulled to sleep.

* * *

**There we go.  
Should have the next chapter up soon...hopefully.  
Thanks again!**


	5. Rose Tyler

**Took a while. But I've got it done.  
Perhaps a bit short, but this chapter needed to stop there.  
The next chapter...can't make any promises about when, but soon enough.  
This chapter is unbetad...cause my beta is away on holiday.  
So, yeah...anyway...read on!**

* * *

**_CHAPTER 5:- ROSE TYLER_**

_The world was spinning beneath his feet, hurtling around and around at some insane speed. _

_It was always there; that constant awareness of the turn of the Earth. _

_And it was something that he had to protect. _

_From behind him, he heard people talking, he heard explosions, he heard screams. _

_They were going to die. Every single human. Dead. _

"_Doctor! Help!" a woman demanded furiously. _

_He turned slowly, to catch sight of the blonde woman from his previous dreams. She was bent over a complicated looking switchboard on the floor. _

_She was familiar too…just not like Martha…different, though he couldn't tell how. _

"_A delta wave is not the way." He spoke quietly and steadily. _

_The woman's brown eyes latched onto his, and his hearts skipped a few beats at the way they hardened as she stood up. _

"_We sacrifice a few humans to destroy the Daleks. I told you they're all in this building. So every human in this bas dies. Better than every human on Earth. Simple" she said. _

_Anger welled up inside him and he shook his head vehemently. _

"_No! No humans die because of us. There are too many friends in here. Jack, Mickey, Martha…no human dies because of our actions." He stated._

_The blonde rolled her eyes and began to work on the machine again, kneeling down with her back to him. _

_Somewhere deep inside of him, something was hurting. _

_Badly. _

"_What happened to you? You've changed to much…" he murmured softly as he reached out a hand to lay on her shoulder. _

"_What happened to YOU?! You've gone soft on me! You're too busy pining over that bloody Martha; who, let me remind you, you DROVE away in the first place. Stop bloody feeling sorry for yourself and help kill the Daleks!" she snarled._

_Flinching, the Doctor dropped his hand, and frowned. _

"_I am NOT pining over Martha…and leave her out of this, she's done nothing to you" he tried to pour conviction into his weak voice, and a lie that fooled no one. _

_The blonde merely scoffed and shook her head. _

_His hearts contracted painfully and he blinked furiously to keep the tears at bay. _

"_Right then…you obviously don't want me here anymore…I'll go and help Jack" he said thickly. _

_With that, he fled. _

* * *

The Doctor opened his eyes as soon as he awoke; the residual pain from the dream still present in reality.

But for the moment, he focused on where he was; which certainly wasn't the bathroom.

He distinctly remembered Martha, the water and being just shy of naked.

Yet…that wasn't here.

He was laid out in a nice soft bed, the warm covers pulled up to his chin with his heads rested upon a multitude of soft, downy pillows.

His body felt distinctly clean, and was clad in a pair of blue flannelette pyjamas, with all his wounds re-bandaged.

So he'd been asleep for a rather long time.

"Martha?" he called tentatively.

Barely five seconds later, she walked in.

"Ah. It's good to see you awake finally. I knew you went to sleep, but now I'm thinking it was closer to fainting. " she commented, planting her hands on her hips.

As he looked at her standing at the foot of the bed, his hearts fluttered slightly, causing him to smile shyly.

She was so young, a little short…and very beautiful.

He was lucky to have her looking after him.

"How did I get here…like this?" he asked, shaking it from him.

The smile she gave him caused him to forget the pain from his dream.

"With a lot of help from Jack" was all she said.

Slowly, he nodded, feeling a rush of friendly affection for the American.

Martha ambled over to his bedside, before gently perching on the edge of it.

With all the care of a lover, she took up his damaged right hand and gently stroked the bandages with her thumb.

"How're you feeling?" she asked softly, gazing at him through those beautiful eyes sadly.

Shrugging a shoulder, he offered a lopsided smile in return.

"Alright" he answered truthfully.

It was not a lie, nothing at that moment was causing much grievance at all.

"Cause I heard you mumbling things…while you slept" Martha said slowly.

"Well…I did have a dream. M'not sure if it means anything" Martha replied, slightly embarrassed.

It wasn't really important, but Martha nodded at him.

"It doesn't have to mean anything. If it's bothering you, all you have to do is talk to me" she encouraged softly.

For a moment, he gazed intently at the duvet that covered his body and legs.

It was the deepest blue, with flecks of white, representing the night sky moments before it darkened into that illustrious black.

He gazed at a particular white speck, drawing a circle around it constantly with his left index finger; concentrating as hard as he could.

The dream still held a sort of sting about it, despite him not understanding what it all meant.

"I dreamt…I was in this room. With this girl…a…a blonde girl. She…she hurt. Deep down, she hurt me…so bad Martha. She had changed. She was different…a bad different. And when she spoke about you…I got so mad…but it hurt too. I ended up running from her. I-I couldn't help it. She just…hurt so much" he mumbled thickly, blinking back tears.

He didn't know why he was so upset, but he just was.

It felt stupid for getting so worked up over a dream.

But Martha Jones didn't say anything.

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and she pulled him to her, instead.

At first, he kept silent, but his defences crumbled quickly as he remembered the pain that the blonde woman had caused in him.

Desolately, he clung to Martha as he dissolved into tears.

"Why did she do that? Why did she hurt me so bad?" he wept.

"Shhhh, it's alright. Let it out…just let it all out" Martha soothed, rubbing his back.

It took a fair while for him to regain his composure and let her go again.

As he released his grip on her, he sniffed and blinked a few times.

Hastily he wiped his eyes, with his hands, but paused as he made to wipe his nose on the back of his sleeve.

"Here" Martha offered, holding out a tissue that she had retrieved from her pocket.

With a sheepish smile, he took it and blew his nose before Martha threw it in the bin by his bed.

"…M'sorry Martha…I dunno what came over me. It was stupid…crying over a dream" he berated himself; but the young woman gently took his hand again.

"That's alright, Doctor, it's not stupid; because it wasn't a dream. That was something that happened…a memory. She was real and that actually happened" Martha said.

Tentatively, the Doctor raised his head to looked at Martha directly in the eye.

When he found no hint of a lie there, he understood that it had been real.

Swallowing thickly, he blinking again, concerned at the burning starting up behind his eyes again.

"Who was she then?" the Doctor breathed unsteadily.

A fleeting look of pain crossed over Martha's radiant features, before she covered it with a quick frown.

"Her name was Rose. She used to travel with you before me. She loved you and…you…loved her" Martha said quietly.

Something cold began to grow in the Doctor's stomach and he felt suddenly sick.

That woman, _Rose_. She'd been the source of his pain? And he _loved _her?! Why couldn't he remember her then? If he loved her so much? Where was she, if she loved him?

Hysteria seemed to be taking hold of his mind as his breathing quickened.

"W-where is she now? I-If she loves me, then why isn't she you?! Why isn't she with me! Taking care of me? Comforting me!? She can't love me! I don't even _remember_ her! How can I love someone I don't remember?!" he cried, his hearts thundering.

Not only was he bordering on hysterical; he was beginning to hurt in more ways than one.

If he loved Rose; then how could he love Martha?

If he had some other connect to another woman; he'd never be able to love Martha like he wanted to.

Though, the very woman who _was_ with him, gently rested her hand on his forehead, shushing him and conveying absolute calmness to him through her eyes.

Relaxing under her touch, the Doctor felt infinitely glad that Martha was still here with him, even though he was meant to be in love with another woman.

"Relax. It's alright…Rose…she had to go away. She's not coming back. She is alive and well…but…she can't be with you" Martha said.

The Doctor ducked his head, glaring hard at the stars on the duvet.

None of this was fair; and it was getting to a point of being ridiculous.

It had gone from frightening, to purely frustrating.

All these things from his former life were jumping out at him at the most inappropriate times; disturbing what he was trying to build now.

Things he believed wholeheartedly in; like being human and loving Martha were shattered by conveniently placed memories or reminders; like being an alien and loving Rose.

He didn't know! It didn't seem familiar at all, and none of it made any sense.

Without too much conscious thought, he fisted his left hand in the duvet as angry thoughts darted through his head

"Doctor…what's wrong?" Martha asked, her voice as gentle as it could have been.

Simply refusing to look up, he glowered darkly at his hands.

"It's not fair. I don't remember anything, but when I do; it changes everything I believe in now! And it's so…so…" he shivered with fury.

"Frustrating?" Martha suggested.

"Yes! Frustrating! And I can't help it! From what I've felt so far…what I was before was painful. And I don't wanna go back to it. If forgetting everything that I once was means that I can be happy, then I hope that I never remember!" he said petulantly.

Glancing up to gauge Martha's reaction, he was mildly surprised to see a look of fear.

It quickly morphed into a look of understanding.

"It's okay, Doctor. Whatever happens, happens. You can remember the past and still be happy. It all depends on you" she said, trying to lighten the mood with a smile.

But, he didn't feel like participating. He was angry and tired and confused.

Under his breath, he mumbled an _'I suppose'_ while still gazing at the blanket.

The message was received by her, as she stood up and nodded, gently letting go of his hand.

"Look, how about you get some rest. Things always look better after some sleep" She proposed, leaning forward to fluff up his pillows.

As she did so, he snagged her wrist, catching her eyes with his own.

"I am glad that I remember you. Thank you so much Martha Jones. You are an angel" he said, wanting her to know that he was grateful for her presence.

A girlish smile graced her lips as she shook her head.

"No. Just a good friend. Now lie back, relax and dream easy. I'll be around, doing some work. Call me if you need me" she said, ducking her head to hide her reddening cheeks.

It made him feel a little better; thinking about Martha.

When he let her go, he fully expected her to leave him to rest, but she fluffed her pillows and sat down next to him.

Smiling gently, Martha ran her hand through his clean hair, lulling him to sleep with a lullaby that she hummed.

Yes, he thought.

She was worth it all.

* * *

**That was NOT Rose slashing. Never. I don't like her and the Tenth Doctor together, but she's a fair enough person.  
I just couldn't think of a way to make it proper and still make him seem soft on her.  
But as I said, this is a Ten/Martha fic. Not a Ten/Rose fic. That's all.  
Rose is fine, but not for Ten. She's more of a Nine. Rose/Nine, Ten/Martha. That's the way I roll...  
So are we clear? No Rose slashing. Cause then that gives people the right to slash Martha. And thats not what I want.  
Thanks. **


	6. Progression and Time

**Here we are. Another one. Another chapter, and I hope that its alright. It took a long time to do, though it doesn't seem all that long...which is annoying.  
Anyhow...I've been watching a lot of Torchwood Series 2 lately and I really have got to say that I am seriously upset that I haven't been able to see it. Hasn't been on here! Which kills me! I've watched all of Fragments, Meat and parts of Dead Man Walking and Exit Wounds on YouTube. Still...I wanna see it all!  
Suppose that I just have got to get the DVD when it comes out eh? That and Series 1.  
Now I am rambling...huh...I like typing I suppose. Doesn't matter. Read on, and review. **

* * *

**_CHAPTER 6: Progression and Time._**

The first month in Martha's apartment was not what the Doctor called 'Exciting'.

He was confined to the bed, unable to move for his bone's sake.

For the most part, he dozed; half dreaming of that frightening shadow that reared into view.

Other than that, his days were basically the same as they had been before.

He'd wake up in the mornings for his examination by Martha Jones, before an hour long break after which Jack would turn up and attempt to unlock his sealed mind. Though there was one difference with Jack's presence.

He was made to do physical activity from the flat of his back.

'_To stop muscle degeneration, can't have you weaker than a kitten when you do get up.'_

After that, the Doctor would entertain himself with the large puzzle books which Martha had bought him. She would pop in and check on him, naturally, but she always seemed busy.

Then she'd examine him again before he slept without the aid of drugs.

And then it would all start again the next morning.

But it was the best time of the day, in the Doctor's opinion.

He would lie there, slowly waking from his long sleep as Martha drew back the curtains and opened the window.

If he craned his neck, he could see out to the world below; the world of which he was so curious.

He could see the tops of the cars passing by and hear the chatter of the people outside.

As soon as he was strong enough, he planned on exploring a little.

Yet, to his frustration, his legs remained inoperable; his left leg broken and his right ankle snapped.

They were taking forever to heal.

* * *

"Looking good…they're healing well." Martha announced, one bright spring morning.

Today Martha had brought Jack in early, just so they could talk.

The American stood by the Doctor's bed, staring out the window with his arms folded across his chest.

He looked a little grimmer that day; the Doctor wasn't sure why and no amount of covert scrutiny would tell him.

Momentarily, the Doctor was distracted by the smell of fresh bread wafting in through the window from, what Martha had told him, was the bakery down the street.

Breathing deeply, he glanced at the clock sitting of the nightstand and counted off the weeks he'd been here.

By his reckoning, it had been around six weeks since he'd first set foot in her apartment.

Those six weeks had been endless frustration; his mind not releasing any former life but embracing the prospect of a new one.

It felt pointless to the Doctor as he raised his gaze to the window again.

Martha turned and dug her fingers into a tub of salve, retrieving a rather large blob of the milky ointment; then proceeded to massage it firmly into the Doctor's left calf.

The motion made him wince at the aching feeling in his leg, yet he did not cry out.

Much to his surprise, Martha's suggested massage therapy was working.

Everyday that week the ache had been much less of a factor and he felt generally better. But his left leg always hurt the worst when she did it; his right ankle not so much, so it was usually done first.

"When am I allowed to get up and walk?" he asked the ritual question, expecting to get the same answer of _'when you're well enough' _again.

Yet Martha said nothing, and simply worked the strange smelling ointment down to his ankle with her remarkably strong fingers.

With a sigh, she wiped her hands on a towel she'd brought in, before wrapping his leg and ankle in white bandages again.

She then sat back and put her hands on her knees.

"Jack," she called, causing the American to break his gaze on the street below.

"Help him up."

A grin broke out onto the Doctor's face as Jack approached.

The Time Lord sat up and set his feet on the floor.

"Ready?" Jack asked, hooking him under the arms.

Upon taking a deep breath, he nodded.

Jack pulled him up and forward so he was standing on his own feet, though Jack had hold of his weight.

When Martha nodded, Jack slowly released the Doctor.

Regardless of what happened, the Doctor was adamant against reaching out for Jack's help. He wanted to prove to Martha that he was capable and strong enough for this.

Though, his stubbornness proved to be nothing more than idiotic, as he soon found out that he'd not predicted correctly.

As soon as his weight was applied to his left leg, it buckled and the pain tore through his body.

For a moment, he fell with a cry of surprise and pain but his descent was quickly halted by Jack, who reached out and caught him.

"Easy…easy," Jack soothed gently.

The Doctor shivered, breathing hard and deep to push the remaining pain away.

That blackness was pulling at him again, and he felt the deep urge to sink into its depth.

"Lay him back down…he's not strong enough yet." Martha's voice echoed through his mind from far off.

She sounded upset and disappointed.

It was obvious that she had been hoping that he had indeed been strong enough to stand up.

Now he couldn't have that.

"Wait…wait," he said, raising his head and shoving away the darkness.

Both Martha and Jack looked at him, curious and wary.

"What's the matter, Doctor?" Martha asked, placing a hand on his head.

"I wanna try again," he said, gazing at her.

There was a rumble of negativity from Jack.

"Oh, that might not be a good idea. You're not strong enough yet and if you overexert yourself, you'll be paying for it for a month." The American warned.

Even Martha seemed to be reluctant.

"Please. Please Jack, Martha…let me try again. One more try. That's it. Just one more," he begged.

He couldn't deny that he was tired; in fact from that ordeal he was exhausted yet for his own peace of mind, he needed to do this.

For a long moment, Martha and Jack stared at each other, before she nodded slightly.

"Okay. Here we go again," Jack sighed, repositioning the Doctor so he was on his feet again.

Still trembling from the last wave of pain, Jack eased him down until he let him go.

Pain slammed into his left leg like a white hot brand iron yet this time he bit his lip and shifted his weight to the other leg, glad to find that it only gave him a dull ache in return.

In spite of this, he was standing on his own two legs.

"Fine," he gasped, shuddering horribly. "Just fine."

Jack was smiling at him, but still had his arms out protectively; in case he fell. Martha was also smiling proudly, that disappointment gone from her face.

The Doctor grinned back, before his exhaustion overcame him.

Before he even knew he was falling, Jack's arms were around him; lifting him lightly from his feet and placing him back on the bed.

Martha's young face swam into view, her eyes shining with concern.

"You did good Doctor. I'm so proud of you…but you get some rest now. You need it," she soothed.

He managed to muster a weary smile, before he succumbed to the darkness.

* * *

Martha Jones relished in the cup of coffee in her hands.

She drank deeply from the mug, enjoying the warmth and the taste.

Jack Harkness sat across from her, drinking the same drink from a different mug.

"This is a godsend Jack…thankyou." Martha praised, shifting her grip on the cup.

Peering over the rim, the Captain nodded.

"I live off the stuff, figured that I should get Ianto to teach me how to make a good cuppa." He said offhandedly.

That made sense, Martha figured that Jack knew what he was doing and the coffee was good.

They lapsed into silence for a while, content with drinking their coffee.

Finally, Martha spoke.

"I hope we didn't push him too far today…the Doctor," she said softly.

"Nah, not that old alien. He's just gonna take a power nap, then he'll be bouncing off the walls like usual. No harm done," Jack replied, eyeing the bottom of his mug suspiciously.

With a worried glance towards the bedroom, where the Doctor lay, Martha shifted.

"At least he's recovering physically. It's his memory that's not healing," She sighed.

Jack glanced at her.

"Speaking of which, tell me exactly what you plan on doing if he never gets his memory back," he said.

At first, she hesitated, unsure of the actual question.

"What do you mean?" Martha asked, leaning forward.

Putting the mug down, Jack laced his fingers together as he sat well back in his chair.

"Well, it's not like we can push him into the TARDIS, give him a pat on the rump and tell him good luck. What's the long term plan, sister?" he asked, gesturing lazily with a hand.

It wasn't something Martha had seriously considered but she had a basic idea.

"I thought…that maybe we could keep him with us; make sure he's fighting fit. Of course we take him back to the TARDIS as a last resort, cause he'll be reminded of…the incident. I was hoping that we concentrate on his mind, try and get him to remember by ourselves. Until we get desperate, he stays with us," Martha said, though it was obvious that she was uncertain.

The look in Jack's eyes made it known that he knew she wasn't sure.

But he nodded.

"Whatever happens, m'gonna be right here. Alright?" Jack reassured.

An intense rush of affection for the ex Time Agent flooded over Martha and she offered him a shy smile.

"What would I do without you, Jack Harkness?" she asked, with a lazy shake of the head.

The Captain chuckled as he stretched his fingers.

"Die probably." He commented jokingly, and both of them shared a laugh.

With Jack by her, Martha felt a little safer.

He'd practically become her older brother; as he made regular visits to the family, where her mother would dote upon him and her father would talk about various things that he would a son.

When Leo was over, there would be a three way discussion.

When Tish was over; she'd be perving on Jack the entire time, not that Jack minded of course. He was a show pony and loved every second of the attention.

"So, back to the matter at hand; clothing wise, how's he gonna go? Suit and trainers or plain clothes?" Jack asked, breaking her reverie.

It took her a moment to think before she sighed.

"We should ease him into it; plain clothes at first and after that we'll show him his suits, see if he likes them and remembers them. I know he trusts us but we gotta rebuild the relationship," Martha said.

For some reason, Jack smirked.

"Yeah and maybe this time round, the relationship between you and him may be a little less unrequited as you put it," he said knowingly.

As soon as that sentence had ended, Martha frowned, failing to see the joke.

"That's not funny," she deadpanned.

Jack freed his hands and slapped his knees.

"Aww, come on Martha. I've seen the way you look at him; you still like him…" he began.

"Jack…" Martha moaned.

"After all, you could plant a few seeds here and there; catch my drift?"

"Please Jack…"

"And from the way he looks at you now, he seems to share those feelings…"

"Okay. Enough, Jack." Martha said sternly, and the ex Time Agent shut up.

With a heavy sigh, Martha rubbed at her forehead.

"He doesn't remember the past. When he does, he'll loose whatever schoolboy crush he has on me, and everything will go back to normal," she said softly.

When she looked up, she found Jack gazing at her sympathetically.

"Martha…I've been around for a long time, and I know a lot about love. I'll tell you now…it was never unrequited. Never, Martha Jones. He couldn't express it though, not without betraying Rose." Jack explained gently.

He wasn't kidding, Martha could see that, but she didn't want to get her hopes up.

"Maybe," she muttered, not looking Jack in the eye.

At the moment, her focus was not romance but business. She had to help the Doctor heal from the events that had wounded him so terribly.

Only after he was normal and fully healed, would she even begin to think about it.

Once again they lapsed into silence, each in their own worlds, thinking with love and affection about the past and with fear and apprehension about the future.

But they were interrupted by a strangled scream.

Coming from the Doctor's room.

* * *

**Cliffie! Cliffie-cliff-cliff. Fun isnt it? Well, probably not as fun if you don't know whats happening.  
Hopefully and I do mean hopefully, I'll be able to get another chapter up. Just be patient. I know its frustrating, I've been in a position where it takes forever for someone to update. My friend does it all the time...she's a funny one.  
But moving right along, review and I hope it was worth the wait.  
See you soon!!**


	7. Meeting the Master

**Hello again!  
It's me! Yes, its been a long time, but i've been utterly swamped by work lately.  
But I am on holidays now, so there we go. I'm ready to start again.  
This story...well...I'm having a serious case of writers block with it...so any help would be fantastic!  
Other than that, here we are. More, Ten/Martha!**

* * *

**_Chapter 7:- Meeting the Master_**

_There was fire, so much fire all around. It encircled the Doctor, towering above him in forty foot blazing walls of fury. _

_The air was thick and acrid and burned his lungs; making every breath he drew absolute torture. _

_His skin felt hot, like it was burning from the proximity to the fire; his entire body was burning, his hair, his skin, his eyes, his lungs, legs, hearts and mind. _

_Everything scorched him. _

_He knew he shouldn't make a sound, but the pain was too much for him to bear silently and he screamed loud and long, on his knees upon a burning black marble floor. _

_He held his hands over his ears, and squeezed his eyes shut, as if he could merely block all this out._

_As he knelt there, dying, he felt rather than heard or saw a presence standing before him._

_Something malevolent; something very dark and seriously twisted. _

_Wearily, he opened his eyes and raised his head, letting his hands drop from his head; looking up to see a man. _

_Fear, anger and hatred exploded into his mind, and a scowl of displeasure tugged at his lips. _

_The man tilted his head to the right and smirked. _

_It triggered something as the pain increased tenfold, causing him the scream again, thrashing about in a desperate attempt to ease the fiery feeling that was crawling across his skin. _

_Above the roaring in his ears, came a purring voice; full of alluring darkness. _

"_Such fear of the flames, Doctor. You almost make this too easy for me" _

_It just didn't stop; the agony continued, stretching out for eternities, never ceasing but never increasing. _

"_Stop! Just stop, please! I'll do anything. JUST MAKE IT STOP!" the Doctor screamed, curling up into a ball. _

_The man moved forward, sneering. _

"_Say my name." the man hissed, his voice penetrating the roaring of the flames in a most eerie and truly terrifying way. _

_Unbidden, the man's name fell from his lips along with an involuntary shiver of disgust. _

"_Master. Please…stop!" he begged. _

_With his whispered words, the pain faded away, leaving him sobbing brokenly on the floor. _

_He didn't know why he was crying, but he couldn't help himself…couldn't stop himself. _

_A cool hand snagged his wrist and the other stroked his hair, the gesture making him feel sick and cold._

"_Does it hurt Doctor? Does it always hurt?" the Master breathed into his ear in a silky tone. _

_His stomach churned at the closeness of the man, and he began to retch as bile pushed its way up his throat. _

"_Where's Martha…where's Jack?" he whimpered, shutting his eyes tightly. _

_The Master chuckled darkly. _

"_Far, far away. So far out of reach for the rest of eternity. It's just you…and me. For the rest of time." The Master muttered. _

_Shivers began to course through his body as he began to sob harder. _

_He was so frightened. He needed Martha, needed Jack. _

_The Master would torture him for the rest of time and he was helpless to stop it. _

* * *

Martha bolted, dropping her empty mug on the floor.

In barely two seconds she was by the Doctor, Jack standing beside her.

The Time Lord was still asleep so Martha deducted that it was a nightmare.

A bad one.

His entire body was rigid, his face slick with sweat and his eyes were shut tightly.

Strangled screams and sobs shook his body as he thrashed about under the covers, tangling them about his limbs, trapping him.

Without a word, Jack grabbed his ankles to hold his legs still, holding his right leg a little higher up above the wounded ankle while Martha grabbed his wrist and began to stroke his hot forehead.

"It's alright, Doctor. It's okay. It's just a nightmare, all you need to do is wake up" Martha said, raising her voice to be heard over his screams.

Holding him still appeared to help somewhat as his cries of fear slowly faded to whimpers, yet he continued to weep.

"There we go. Easy now…there we are." Martha crooned, letting him go.

Jack released his grip too, before standing over him and Martha with a deeply concerned grimace upon his handsome face.

Despite his calmed state, it was obvious that the Doctor was still in the throes of the nightmare.

He twisted and turned and whimpered, shaking his head, flinching, wincing and tensing.

Martha gently stroked his tear streaked cheek with the back to two fingers, before wrapping an arm around him and jostling him slightly, unable to bear seeing him so helpless and fearful of his own mind's images.

Her ministrations worked too as his breath hitched and he stilled suddenly before jerking into consciousness, panting.

For a moment, his eyes rolled blindly before finding both Martha and Jack.

His mouth opened and he tried to speak, stumbling on panicked words before Jack leant down and shushed him.

"Shh, easy there tiger. You've had a nightmare but it's over now." Jack soothed, rubbing a hand through his wild, sweat soaked hair.

The Doctor closed his eyes momentarily and swallowed hard before opening them again.

They could see his tears slowly drying and he seemed a little calmer.

"You're safe with us now." Martha murmured gently.

Neither asked what he had dreamt of; not so soon after waking. They wanted him completely calm.

It was glaringly evident however, that he would not want to go back to sleep immediately, so Martha offered him an alternative.

"How about a movie? To take your mind off the nightmare, eh?" she said.

At first, the Doctor's wide eyes stared deep into hers, so frightened and lost that her arms around him tightened, trying to convey that she was here for him.

Finally, he nodded slightly, mouthing the word '_Yes'_.

With a grin, Jack straightened.

"Alright then!" he laughed, suddenly excited about the prospect of a movie night.

Martha began to smile as well, and was thrilled to see the Doctor look a little less uncomfortable.

"Okay, Jack. Can I get you to help move him to the lounge, while I go and get things ready?" she said as she withdrew from the Time Lord.

Leaving Jack to set the Doctor up, Martha strode out of the room and into her kitchen, a rush of excitement flooding through her.

Popcorn, coke with ice, cushions, pillows, blankets and lights off.

The perfect movie night with her best friends; a Lord of Time and an Immortal Man.

'_God_' Martha thought fondly. _'My life is messed up'. _

**

* * *

**

I am getting deeply concerned about the lack of Ten/Martha fix around this site. We are a dying breed...which is sad.  
But I'm gonna continue on this path, I promise.  
I have seen Journey's End the other day, and I am still firmly A Ten/Martha fan. Good for Rose on getting a Doctor, but Martha shall get THE Doctor. Hehe...or so I think. I may be slightly off my head thinking that, but its nice to live in hope...  
I'll try and update again soon. I really will, hopefully I don't get stuck again.  
Thanks! Don't forget to send me any ideas, thanks again and review!

* * *


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